The one, who makes the difference (Sherlockxreader)

chapter 9 -A construktion worker afterall-

~Time skip brought to you by a rather uneventful ride to 16 Southwood Close.~

After an uneventful ride, we were standing in front of the Brickhouse being our destination. "So this is it," John mumbled.
"Obviously," Sherlock and I answered in unison. He gave me a weird side look. I just gave him a cheekish smile in response.
"So what exactly is your plane to get in there again?" John asked us with a curious face.
"Uhm well...," I started stuttering sheepishly, but got interrupted, by Sherlock right away.
"Me and (y/n) will go inside and explain that we had a rather bad car accident in which a beloved friend of ours died and Jack Hall, my old uni friend recommended us to come here," Sherlock explained his plan to me and John.
"You don't have to plane my death...," John mumbled under his breath making me laugh. "Cute...," I said.
"Pardon?" Sherlock asked, raising his eyebrow at me.
"Uhm, nothing," I giggled turning towards the house.
"Come on!" Sherlock followed me more or less willingly. I rang the old looking bell, once Sherlock was by my side. An old woman opened the door. We explained our little made up the story to her and she gave us a pitiful look and showed us inside. Once we sat down on an old fluffy sofa and Mrs. Williams went to the kitchen to make some tea, Sherlock bent over to me whispering in my ear.
"I'll try to find her member register and her documents. keep her busy for me, would you (y/n)?" he whispered. I nodded approvingly. When Mrs. Williams came back with the tee. Sherlock quickly asked her in a very charming way, if he was allowed to use her bathroom. Once Sherlock disappeared I started crying bitterly, what made Mrs. Williams move over to me trying to comfort me by hugging me and rubbing my back. Damn, I could act... :) She didn't even recognize that Sherlock was taking way to long to only go to the loo. When the Detective returned, I pretended to calm down a bit and wiped over my face.
"Thank you so much, but I still got a doctors appointment, I hope we're allowed to return soon...," I sobbed.
"Of course, dear," Mrs. Williams replied warmly, hugging me once more before we could leave the house.
"Finally," a freezing John Watson greeted us.
"Sorry, that it took us that long, John," I replied handing him a pocket warmer.
"Thank you (y/n), how very kind of you," John answered knicking it to warm his hands up a bit.
"Did you find anything," I asked Sherlock, who was silently watching my interaction with John.
"Indeed," he said brusquely. I gave him a soft, questioning look because there was some sort of sad glow in his eyes.
"Could you be a bit more precise?!," John asked irritated.
"She had a dog," he breathed gloomily.
"A dog?," I asked carefully. He raised his lowered head and looked at me. His sad blue eyes met my (y/e/c) ones.
"A red cocker," Sherlock whispered.
"Redbeard," John exclaimed.
The information rushed through my head -Redbeard -sad- dog -lost -teary eyes... Sherlock once had a dog named Redbeard. He must have died, but not recently, or else he would have been sad the whole time... it must have been some time ago and the Detective never got over it...
"I'm so sorry," I sad in a comforting way. Even though I barely knew this man, I was feeling sorry for him. I knew how much it hurts to lose a beloved pet. I reached out with my hand placing it on his shoulder and actually expected him to pull back, but he didn't. He even leaned into my touch, as I rubbed up and down his shoulder. John looked at Sherlock, then at me and back at Sherlock.
"Wait for what ... I mean...what ...I mean... she ...you...WHAT?!," John stuttered, a look of pure confusion on his face.
"We should focus on the case," Sherlock suddenly said, pulling back with an emotionless expression on his face.
"Yeah, so what did you find out?," I interrogated the Detective. He handed me his phone. He took pictures of each and every member briefing ... Tom Davis... Sienna Tomas... John Wilson ...Noah Henderson...George Brown... Amelia Miller... Wait for what?! Georg Brow... I took a closer look at his briefing... he was one of the earlier victims... he had been here because he had depressions ever since his wife died.
"George Brown, one of the other victims, was here as well... we have a prototype here he seems to kill people, who were confronted with death..., who lost a beloved person."